From the Ashes
by Queen of Hexes
Summary: The Rebellion failed and the Hunger Games have once again risen from the ashes of the destruction it left behind. The 79th Hunger Games have begun. We just hope you're ready.
1. The Reaping

_Hello everyone! It's been an age since I've updated anything, it felt like time. So, my friend pressured me into publishing this one-shot I wrote ages ago in light of the recent Hunger Games craze, hopefully it'll make an alright story. Enjoy everyone! :)_

It was a terrifying feeling waking up on this morning, feeling the sleep that'd gathered in the corners of my eyes tug gently at my eyelashes and that dull but satisfying ache that accompanied the stretching of limbs. And knowing that it was potentially the last time I'll wake up in this familiar bed, in my home and surrounded by people who love me. I leaned up, letting the threadbare blanket that miraculously conserved my heat slip and pool around my waist. I quivered slightly as the bitter cold morning touched my skin curiously and I looked around the tiny room that I shared with my two sister, pretending... just pretending that this was the last time that I'd wake up to the sight and that every glance of the worn, dusty room was precious.

I pushed my feet from beneath the warm covers, grimacing as the cold floor burned against my bare feet. "Violet get up you lazy beast." I called to the shivering lump that was my younger sister, stifling the yawn that attempted to fly past my lips. Violet could never be accused of being a morning person, from a young age it'd been an awful struggle to get her up on time for anything. Unlike her older sister, Luna, who was always up irritatingly early, indeed her bed was already empty and the sheets were obsessively neat over the thin mattress. "Violet!" She poked a ruffled head from her cocoon and groaned, mumbling incoherently as she looked at me with bleary eyes. I tapped my foot and allowed a sardonic smile to slip over my lips and with a whining moan she dragged herself from her bed and stomped unsteadily in the direction of our small living space; no doubt in search of food. Thirteen, entered twice. I couldn't help but feel my gut clenching with a terrible fear she wouldn't last five minutes in the arena; she was far too easily distracted, much too unaware of her surroundings.

It was hard to pretended that there wasn't an atmosphere hanging around that morning as we all ate our meagre breakfast silently. It was a fear that was never acknowledged but everyone knew it was there and growing steadily in intensity in the pit of our stomachs. On Reaping Day morning, uncertainty of the future was something that haunted many households... all it took was a name on a stray scrap of paper amongst thousands and two families were scattered, while the rest rose up in celebration.

"Stop looking so glum."

My mother ordered, her slate gray eyes glinting. Breena was one of those eternally optimistic people who believed that as long as you remained positive and smiling, nothing terrible could touch you. She was a blazing beacon amongst the coal dust and it was easy to see why so many people loved her... such vibrancy was hard to find in District 12. All four of her children looked just like her: curling brown hair so dark it seemed black, olive-toned skin and gray, sparkling eyes. For her I mustered up a smile and shovelled bland oatmeal into my mouth. My father leaned back in his chair, looking pensive and brooding... we'd inherited our mother's looks, but each of us had inherited our father's biting sarcasm and cynical approach to life. Something that forever annoyed Breena. "We're running late, you may want to head out and get ready. Can't keep them waiting."

Within the hour, we'd pooled together our water supply; vigorously washed and dressed ourselves in our best clothes. Soft material that'd become a little thin and faded but fitted like a dream and were something we were eternally proud of. I smiled as I looked in the shiny piece of mirror; my wavy dark hair had been pinned back with a few tendrils of hair fluttering over my slightly too prominent cheek bones and the slightly hollowed cheeks and I was dressed in a tight-fitting green dress that clung to my frame perfectly, the colour emphasising the warm blue-gray of my eyes. I know it was shallow to feel some small comfort in looking good, but I'd take anything I could get. Together, the six of us walked huddled close; my brother's arm hung around my shoulder in a protective and comforting manner. Marcus was twenty and thankful exempt from being reaped... one less child for my parents to worry about, one child out of the danger zone. As we neared the town centre, the throng of hungry looking people grew thicker and the indistinct din of hushed voices fell around us.

"Okay, we'll be waiting here for you... we'll see you soon." My mother said with a beam that hid her anxiety well, the only clue of her inner turmoil was the hand that clutched at my fathers arm. The knuckles glowed with whiteness and the tendons strained beneath the tawny skin. Marcus hung back, looking tortured as he looked toward where the children were already being sorted into their respective areas. I knew what he was thinking, he wanted to leap in with us and protect us no matter what the cost. We kissed our parents cheeks, hugged Marcus hard and with a reassuring smile we backed away.

"Violet, will you be okay?" Luna asked, pushing her curly hair behind her ears looking anxious about leaving our younger sister alone; truth be told, I was too. Luna was eighteen and this was her last year and she was fiercely protective over both of us. Violet nodded, her lips tight and with a final hug we parted ways. I breathed deep as I stood with the rest of the District 12 seventeen year olds; we were terrified, but we were old enough now that we could hide our fear. The new twelve year olds were having no such luck, many were in floods of tears and some were even being sick; I breathed deeply, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face where it'd escaped from where it'd been pinned at the back of my head.

A flurry of activity occurred on the stage before us and suddenly a hush descended over the people of District 12; a hideous woman with lilac hair and aqua skin had stepped up and was looking over the crowd with a terrifying smile stretched over her lips. She was pleased to be here, she thought she was doing us a great honour. Behind her was Katniss and Peeta, their faces pinched and worn, they were mentors now but strictly monitored... their rebellion had been crushed and all hope of change had been undone; we weren't going to be changing for a very long time.

"Welcome, District 12, to the the Reaping of the 79th Annual Hunger Games!"

We looked at her blankly, grimacing at the ridiculous accent that erupted from her mouth. I couldn't help it, I zoned out of the customary speech from the mayor and the video that flickered on the screen before us. And then it was time. The District Escort, Olia Bumble, took a step forward and smiled. "And now to choose our female tribute." The silence was tangible, thick and unyielding and it seemed that each child, each family held their breath as the monstrous looking woman reached her hand into the glass bowl. Her fingers was the fishing rod and each thin slip of paper were the vunerable fish. No one looked away as the fish bit and writhed between Olia's fingertips.

"And the female tribute for District 12 is..." She paused dramatically and there was a crescendo of fear in every girls heart as each second beat past with agonising slowness. "Selene Braxton!" There was the sigh of relief from those who hadn't been chosen, a breath of wind in the windless air. But there was silence and blood rushed in my ears. My heart leaped into my mouth and all of a sudden it felt as though I'd been submerged deep under the water. I felt sick. I felt so sick. This couldn't be happening not to me.

_No no no no no no no._

A voice close to me whispered my name and told me that they were sorry, that I had to go up. I heard a scream in the distance... high and anguished and through the haze I felt my feet move me numbly toward the stage. Everyone had sympathy in their eyes, but I knew what they were thinking. _'I'm glad that it isn't me, I'm glad that isn't my daughter._' The monster woman beamed, her face stretching with perverse glee. "Wonderful!" I barely noticed as she called the male tribute to the stage, barely noticed as we shook hands, the un-enthusiastic applause or as we were lead away like the sacrificial lambs that we were. I knew what they were thinking.

_I'm so glad it's not me._


	2. The Journey

The room that I'd been escorted into by the pack of burly peacekeepers was uncomfortably warm. Sweat had sucked the green material of my dress to my skin, sending uncomfortable itchiness blazing across my body. I'd tried prising open the dirty windows, but they were stiff and rusted with misuse and refused to budge.

It was a largish room with a greying crimson carpet and peeling purple paint on the walls, it was numbing to realise that this room contained more wealth than I'd ever seen in the course of my entire life. Knowing that such riches could be contained in a single, decaying room that was only used once a year, when thousands of people starved to death outside of it shook me to my core.

I breathed in the stale air, catching the faint and elusive fragrance of apple... a half-hearted attempt to clean the room for my arrival had been made, you could see it in the random flashes of shining wood through the thick dust that hadn't been attacked by the dusting rag.

I wasn't looking forward to the arrival of my family, seeing them weeping or holding back their tears, hoping that they seem strong and supportive. In reality, they'll be in turmoil on the inside, they know that this will probably be the last time they see me alive and that I when I return home, it won't be on a storm of victory and despair, it'll be in a box. I breathed in deep again, hugging my knees and rocking slightly to comfort myself. The soft motion reminded me of when I used to climb into my fathers lap when I was afraid, or sad and he would rock me back and forth, crooning a gentle lullaby until I drifted off to happy sleep.

"Leanie?"

I looked up, eyes scanning over my small friend Annis; her blue eyes rimmed with red. She lunged toward me, her arms wrapping around me like a gripping vine. "Promise that you'll come home." Annis' voice was shaky, she'd been crying. I wasn't sure what I'd done to deserve friends who genuinely felt sad at my upcoming death. "Anni... what..." I paused, my eyes misting. "What chance do I have out there? I can't... what if I don't come home? What if I don-" She pulled back, her eyes suddenly angry slits as she shook me repeatedly, cutting of my words.

"Don't you _dare _give up on me, Selene Braxton. You're a fighter, you're alive and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you go into that arena like you're already a fucking dead woman."

Her voice was a low hiss. "Do you understand me? Don't you dare stop living yet, because the moment you do you're already a ghost." I let my tears fall, lurching forward and wrapping my arms around her waist as though I were a small child, letting myself sob into her dress. "I'll come back... I'm sorry, I'll be back... I won't die, I won't die." I chanted again and again, grabbing fistfuls of her dress. I didn't believe what I was saying deep down, but for the moment it was enough. I couldn't understand why I was letting myself break down, but once the dam had been opened I couldn't stop myself. Annis and I had been inseparable since very young children, I'd confided in her everything... all my hopes and fears, dreams and aspirations. I couldn't even begin to contemplate life without her.

We hardly noticed when the door creaked open and she was wrenched away. "No!" I cried, reaching for her; but she was already gone and the last glimpse I caught of her, was her tear stained face. I collapsed back onto the dusty velvet sofa and buried my face in my hands. I made a shallow vow to myself... I would survive, I would come out alive. It wasn't true, I knew that, but I discovered that just thinking it again and again made me more determined, stronger. I wiped my eyes and took several steadying breaths and waited.

I had a few more visitors through the course of the next hour, for each of whom I pulled on a quietly optimistic face. I was feeling more and more like a wilted flower, my petals shrivelling under the burning sun of my visitors false positiveness. I was exhausted by seeing these people come to me, their expressions long and drawn with fake smiles stretched over their features as they offered motivational platitudes. I leaned my head against the wall, wishing for water or something that would soothe the fire in my throat.

"Oh Baby.."

My head snapped down with alarming ferocity and I jumped off my velvety perch. "Mama!" I cried, reaching for her and feeling her reassuring arms encircle me. Immediately, I felt safe. "Oh Baby, you've been crying." She whispered, her long white fingers brushing gently over my swollen eyelids. I just buried my face into the cradle between her neck and shoulder, taking comfort from her warmth.

"We're so proud at how brave you are, darling."

My father said, his gruff voice quivering slightly. I detached myself from my mother and embraced my muscular father, his hands stroking my hair lightly. "You'll come back to us?" He asked quietly, I pulled back to look at him. I had my doubts, those niggling insecurities that danced with the sickening fear that clawed at my chest like an enraged lion. I knew what I would have to do to come home. But, I'd made a promise... an empty one, but a promise nonetheless and for these people that I loved, I would do anything.

"Yeah Papa, I'm going to be coming back."

I told him, my gray eyes darting up to look deep into his black ones; my face hardening with determination and my resolve strengthening. It was my love for these people that would drive me forward. He smiled and kissed my forehead lovingly. "Well done, Baby." And I knew what he was really saying: well done for casting aside your doubts, well done for not condemning yourself before you'd even begun. He smiled, placed a kiss against my forehead and stepped back, wrapping an arm around my mother and leaving me to say goodbye to my siblings. I hugged each of them tightly. "Look after yourselves, okay?" I requested and Marcus laughed. "Look after ourselves? Leanie, we're the ones who should be saying that to you." I shrugged a shoulder, stiffing as the door opened and a Peacemaker stepped in. "More time... please?" But they shook their heads, I clutched each of them to me for the last time and prayed that this wouldn't be the last time we were together.

"I love you... I love you so much."

And I was alone in the stifling room once more.

* * *

I was dazed and bewildered as I boarded the train to Capitol. The multiple camera's and the dazzling array of flashing lights had blinded me; every time I closed my eyes I could see the explosion of colour dancing across my eyelids. I was certain that I was giving the impression of a very scared deer caught in the headlights, and at the moment I wasn't sure if that was a beneficial or a detrimental thing. I knew that everything I did, everything I said from this moment forth was essential to my survival... I knew that I had to adopt a persona now, a role that would help me live.

I rubbed my arms absently as me and my fellow tribute were lead around the shockingly fancy train. It was cleaner, newer and more elaborate than anything I'd ever seen before. The riches that were packed onto it amazed me, it seemed to me that they couldn't belong on something like a train, it seemed so wasteful somehow. I felt like I was in a dream, those dreams I'd had when I was young about wealth and beautiful dreams... except, this dream was real and tinged with horror and lingering fear.

Olia had shown us to the personal quarters where we were to be staying for the duration of the journey, it was just a room on a train and yet just the bedroom was almost as large as my living space at home. I sat on the bed, pressing my hand down into the squishy mattress, I ran my fingers over the vibrant red bed covers... just stroking the silken material as though it were a warm and fluffy animal. Olia had said we could do what we wanted in the time before dinner, and I fully intended to explore the space that'd been given exclusively for me.

I didn't realise how much time just looking at things could take. At home there was rarely time for a slow and leisurely pace, everyone had to be constantly working toward survival. Even children at school worked hard with their parents and siblings to ensure there was food to be eaten and clothes for each others backs. I wandered around, looking at the startlingly bright colours and bizarre items with an expression of childlike wonder... it felt like a rainbow was being stuffed inside my skull and beating my brain with a colourful stick. It seemed odd that they would waste such money on children who were being carted to their deaths, perhaps they wanted us calm and overwhelmed to the degree where our fear couldn't register. Or, that they wanted us to feel indebted to the Capitol.

"Selene? Dinner is ready... Olia sent me...?"

I looked up, running my eyes down the boy who was going to be my enemy, taking in every detail. He had the typical Seam look. Black, scraggly hair, grey eyes and rich golden skin. He was tall, broad shouldered, muscular though slightly on the thin side. His mildly hallowed cheeks were covered with a light layer of dark stubble and his lips curved as though he was amused by my visual invasion.

"Thanks... ?" I left the word dangling, my head tilted to the side curiously. "Flynn Thorwen." He said simply and turned away. We walked down the shaking corridor in silence. We didn't know each other, but there was already a bond there. We were going to die together and that wasn't something that could easily be overlooked.

The dining cart was spectacular. Highly polished wooden panels, a shining table that was laden with fine dishes made from expensive looking ceramic made the whole room seem like it was glowing to uncultured eyes like mine. Already seated were Peeta, Katniss, Haymitch and Olia. I wasn't going to lie, the moment I saw the two 75th Hunger Game Victors, I paused and my mouth flopped open like a dead fish. They were infamous throughout the Districts. But after District 13 had been completely obliterated and a surge of Capitol sympathisers had brutally crushed the rebellion, they'd retreated into themselves and were rarely seen outside of Victor's Village. They'd made an example of the instigators... horrifically, and seeing the Girl Who Was On Fire give up sent a sad message to the people. If they can give up, I guess we had to too. From what I could gather, they were carefully monitored and no move they made was private.

I gingerly seated myself, looking nervously at the three adults; hands twisting in my lap. "Selene, Flynn... it's nice to meet you." Peeta said with a tiny smile, looking at the pair of us carefully, obviously waiting for us to reply. An awkward silence seemed to stretch for eternity and I felt my cheeks flush crimson.

"It's nice to meet you too." Flynn responded with a tight grin, looking relieved as the food came through the doors. It was richer than anything I'd ever seen and while there was a niggle at the back of my mind that screamed that this was an obscene waste of good food; I couldn't help myself. I grabbed fluffy, freshly baked roll and a large plate of stew, shoving it down my throat like a half-starved animal. Olia sniffed, looking disgusted at both mine and Flynn's savagery. Our mentors however, just grinned; I guessed they remembered what it was like to be hungry and I guessed that they enjoyed the snobbish escort's discomfort and disdain.

"You might want to eat slower... you'll make yourselves sick and there's a lot more where this is coming from." I slowed immediately, pausing to swallow the massive mouthful. "More? You mean... this isn't...?" I didn't finish, but I shared an astonished look with Flynn. "I've never seen so much food." I murmured softly as dish after dish was presented to us. Naturally, we gorged ourselves and tried everything that we could lay our hands on... when you grew up in District 12, you learnt to treat food like precious treasure and to never waste it. And between the bites, we conducted pleasant conversation with our mentors, after the shyness of meeting the District celebrities had died down.

After the dinner which had, though I wouldn't admit to anyone, had left me feeling horribly sick, we moved to watch the Reapings. I made a point to carefully watch them, to weigh up who my opponents were and how I would fare against them. I wasn't going to lie, it'd left me with a heavy heart and with a careful nod, I said my goodnights and retreated back to my room. They all looked bigger, and stronger than me. And that meant I was going to have to rely on something all together different if I was going to have even the slightest chance of survival.

I changed out of my dress, letting it slide off my shoulders and settle around my feet like a green puddle. I closed my eyes and thought of home, thought of my family. Calm. I crawled into the softest bed that I'd ever felt, let alone lay on and closed my eyes and slid into fitful and dreamless sleeping.


End file.
